Trimmed Wings
by thebigwolf
Summary: She is a girl living in a limited world. He is a boy who is desperate to find out why the girl with the grey eyes is so withdrawn. Both seniors in high school, Will finally has a chance to speak to Tessa. Bound by restrictions and the guilt of her past, Tessa is both terrified and fascinated by William, who wants to show her what she is missing.


**The characters all belong to the lovely Cassandra Clare.**

**This is an idea that has been running through my head. First chapters are always difficult for me, but I have a great storyline with this. Hopefully this first chapter won't be too terrible.**

* * *

No matter what terrible thing happened to me, I knew I deserved it. Aunt Harriet had told me that I was wicked, and that it was her responsibility to carve out the evil that had been instilled in my soul. It was her responsibility, she believed, to rid me of the demons that were obviously attached to my body, causing harm to all of those around me. And if it took physical abuse to get rid of the demons, then Aunt Harriet had no qualms about it.

I wasn't always like this. Before both of my parents died in a car wreck, I had been emerging as a social butterfly. I had friends, crushes, and sleepovers. But at the tender age of eleven, I lost it all. And it was completely my fault. I knew I had no reason to be angry towards Aunt Harriet, because she was right. I was wicked. How many eleven year old girls can say they killed their parents?

It was after my parent's death that I was sent to North Carolina live with Aunt Harriet, my mother's sister. My older brother, Nathaniel, was sent to live with a family friend, because Aunt Harriet said she couldn't handle us both. That was the worst and best thing about the move; the worst because I missed my brother more then anything, but the best because it was probably better for him to be away from me. Nate and I wrote each other for a while, but then Aunt Harriet believed he was a bad influence, so she revoked that privilage. I hadn't spoken to Nate in nearly three years.

Immediately upon moving in with Aunt Harriet, I realized that she was strict about her religion and didn't believe in owning anything superficial. She had no television or computer, nor did she allow herself or me to wear any make up. Aunt Harriet insisted that make up was the devil's material, and only trashy women put it on so that they could seduce men. I remember when I was thirteen years old, a girl at school let me use her massacre. I only wanted to see what it would look like and I didn't expect Aunt Harriet to react so angrily. When I returned home after school and she saw my dark lashes, Aunt Harriet slapped me so quickly and called me such awful names that I thought I would die of shame. Never again did I put on make up. It is, after all, the devil's material.

She had demanded to know why I had put on the massacre in the first place and I finally had to admit that it was for a boy in my class. William Herondale was perhaps the most attractive person I had ever seen and I had hoped, in vain, that he would notice me. Of course, it would take more than massacre for a girl like me to ever catch his eye, especially considering that I never spoke to him. I didn't have any classes with him throughout junior high, so I could only glance at him as he walked past me in the halls, looking away quickly when he caught my gaze.

Aunt Harriet forbade me to talk to boys after I confessed about William. After all, just looking at a cute boy had caused me to disobey her. She couldn't imagine what horrible things I would do if I actually spoke to one. It was forbidden for me to talk to anyone, really. I wasn't allowed to join any clubs or sports teams, not that I could play anything anyway. But I had wanted to join the school's book club so badly that I almost contemplated joining it without her permission. But that was a wicked thing to do, and I was trying so hard to be good. Aunt Harriet told me that other girl's were bad influences and that they would only make me do bad things. She said that she was my friend and the only person in the world who cared about me. The only people outside of Aunt Harriet that I was allowed to speak to were our next door neighbors. Jessamine Lovelace and her parents attended the same church that Aunt Harriet and I went to. Jessamine was beautiful, with her golden locks, soft brown eyes and flawless skin. But underneath Jessamine's beauty lurked a snake. She had informed me the first day that I met her that she would not be my friend and that she could care less about God or what her family expects of her. She also told me that I needed to do something about my frizzy hair. So I could not expect to find a companion out of the one and only person my Aunt would allow me to associate with. In Aunt Harriet's eyes, Jessamine was perfect. Jessamine was who my Aunt wished I could be more like.

At the end of the day, however, no matter how terrible it was, I had my books. Books were the objects in which I could turn to and feel truly loved. Aunt Harriet wouldn't allow me to read anything other than the Bible or books for school. The last thing she wanted, she told me, was for me to get any silly ideas from reading anything she didn't approve of. But what she didn't know is that during lunch, I went to the library and read. I couldn't take any books home, because she would, without a doubt, discover them. But I could read to my heart's content at school. And I read everything – from fantasy to classics to romance. I had a soft spot for the classics, however, especially plays. Whenever my English classes had to read Shakespeare, I was thrilled, while everyone around me grumbled. And although I knew it was bad for me to sneak behind Aunt Harriet's back, I couldn't help it. My love for reading over powered my fear of her. I told myself that it was all educational, anyways. She couldn't be upset that I wanted to learn, could she?

I was just putting my schoolbooks in my bag when Aunt Harriet knocked on my bedroom door. Her faded blue eyes met my grey ones and her mouth was narrowed into a frown. I think Aunt Harriet was a beautiful woman in a past life, but after her fiancée Harry died, before my parent's had passed away, she morphed into some one that I couldn't recognize anymore. She never dated anyone after Harry's death. Gone was the pretty smile and practical attitude, replaced by a stern voice and a hard hand.

"Come on," she said, "You're going to be late."

I nodded, pushing my hair behind my ears and grabbing my jacket. This was the first day of my senior year, my last year of high school. And despite everything, I couldn't help but be excited, even though I knew that the end of the year would bring no change. No matter how many good grades I made, I would never escape this house. Backpack on, I shut my bedroom door behind me and started to leave. Aunt Harriet grabbed my arm.

"Just because it's a new year, does not mean that the rules have changed. No boys, and mind to yourself. The last thing I need is for you to get involved with some silly group of teenagers and ruin all the progress I have made with you." She gave me a hard look. "Do you understand?"

I nodded. "Of course, Aunt Harriet." This was the fifth time she had given me this speech in the past two days, although this one was the shortest, thankfully. I assured her that I would not do anything immoral just because I was a senior. I would behave. I would not be wicked. I started towards the front door, when her voice stopped me.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

I felt a mixture of both fear and anger that I had forgotten. Aunt Harriet looked at me with disapproving eyes and I knew I had messed up. I would probably pay for it when I got home. I lowered myself down onto my knees, below the large cross that sat above the front door. It was a ritual that I kneel before it and recite whatever Aunt Harriet requested.

"James 1:25," Aunt Harriet instructed. I cleared my throat, licking my lips before reciting,

"But one who looks intently at the perfect law, the law of liberty, and abides by it, not having a forgetful hearer but an effectual doer, this man shall be blessed in what he does." I closed my eyes briefly, relieved that I managed to remember it.

"Remember Theresa," she said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Abide by the perfect law, and you shall be blessed in what you do." She paused. "But when you fail to abide by the law, terrible things happen. I'm sure you don't wish to be responsible for anyone else's harm, do you?"

"No, Aunt Harriet," I responded automatically, my eyes still closed. I felt her long fingers digging into my shoulder, grinding against my bone. I wondered if she even knew she was gripping so tightly.

She pulled back and I resisted the urge to rub my shoulder. Instead, I opened my eyes and stood up. Pecking her on the cheek, I said, "I will abide by the perfect law, Aunt Harriet. I'll see you this afternoon."

She didn't say anything as I walked out the door.

* * *

One thing that I liked about Aunt Harriet's house was that it was close to school, so I could walk. I didn't have my own car, and Jessamine was never going to offer me a ride in her nice BMW, so I had to be content with walking everyday. I didn't mind so much, unless the weather was bad. It was about a fifteen minute walk and it gave me time to prepare myself and go over Aunt Harriet's rules.

No boys, no friends, no socializing or gossiping. My attire was the same as it had been since I moved here; a skirt, closed toed shoes and a long sleeved shirt. If my quiet disposition didn't scare people away, my outfits finished the job.

As the school approached, I pulled out my schedule. I had taken Advanced Placement British Literature, a class I was beyond excited for. It had promised a heavy reading load, and I couldn't wait to be able to bring home books and have a good excuse as to why I was reading them. British Literature was my first class, followed by Calculus, Psychology, and the day ended with Advanced Biology I. I had purposely signed up for classes that I knew would have a lot of work, because Aunt Harriet always left me alone when I had schoolwork.

I delved into the heavy crowd in the hallways at the school. There were girls squealing and giggling, comparing schedules and groaning to find out they had a certain teacher. The guys were all fist pumping and waving their hands around, no doubt sharing their wild summer stories. And here I was, Tessa Grey, amongst them but not seen or heard. I got to my first period class early and sat in the front, waiting for the bell to ring.

I had Mrs. Collins for first period, a small and dark haired woman who didn't look to be much older than her students. She was very quiet as she gave us the expected reading material and assigned us books. We went over the syllabus and she promised us a hard, but rewarding semester. And that's how it was in every class. I know most students love the first day, because we do absolutely nothing, but I couldn't stand it. All we did was go over the syllabus, listen to the teachers tell us how hard the semester was going to be, and then they would let us talk for the remainder of the class. After a summer spent studying only the Bible and cleaning house, I was desperate for something else to put my mind to.

That probably wasn't a Christian thing to say, though. Sometimes I am so relieved that Aunt Harriet can't read my thoughts.

Lunch was right after third period and I spent it in the library. I nestled into one of the back corners, picking up _A Tale of Two Cities. _I had read it every year since my freshmen year, when I first discovered it on one of the back bookcases. I knew it was bad, but whenever I felt sad, I simply thought of myself as a character in this book, and what I would do if I were in this story. It always makes me feel better. Although food wasn't technically allowed, I snacked on some goldfish and drank from my water bottle. Nobody ever came this far back in the library anyways and nobody could see me.

Lunch was a half hour and I had managed a few chapters before the bell rang. Reluctantly, I put the book back on the bookshelf and picked up my bag. I made my way down the science hall and turned right, entering Mrs. Branwell's room. There were several lab stations with two stools assigned to each one. I cringed, knowing that I would have to have a partner. The last thing I needed was somebody that I had to exchange notes with or call to work on projects. Aunt Harriet would have to know all about them.

I sat down timidly at a table up front, hoping that there would be an uneven number of students and that I wouldn't get paired with anyone. I felt my palms began to sweat as I realized the danger of this situation. I wasn't supposed to talk to anyone. What if Jessamine saw me with my partner and told Aunt Harriet? What if my partner stopped by the house and didn't fit Aunt Harriet's standards? A thousand different scenarios ran though my head and although I told myself I was being absurd, I knew that I wasn't. Aunt Harriet could be difficult and I spent a lot of my time trying to keep her placated. I kept my head down as people began to pour in the door, seconds before the bell rang. The stool next to me remained empty.

"Don't get comfortable in your seats," Mrs. Branwell said, standing up from behind her desk. She was such a small woman that I couldn't see how she could possibly be carrying such a large belly. She put a hand protectively on her stomach.

"Yes, I am pregnant. No, I do not plan on having the baby in this class as an example of biology in motion. But don't test me, because stress can cause an early delivery." A slight chuckle went through the room, and she smiled triumphantly.

"Now, I made you guys seating charts." A collective grumble went through the room, but she waved a hand to quite everyone. "Oh, I know. Woe is all of you, because you can't sit next to your best friend." She rummaged through a folder on her desk, pulling out a paper. "They aren't in alphabetical order. All of your other classes do that, but I want you to be partners with somebody you aren't used to working with. Biology is all about evolution. And in order to have an evolution, you have to get outside the norm."

I wanted to point out that I liked my norm, but instead I just stared, and waited.

Slowly, Mrs. Branwell began calling names, pointing to tables. I had to collect my books and move so that two other students could have my table. The minutes ticked by and I wondered if she would ever get to my name, although I was surprised when I heard Jessamine's name called. I wondered what on earth she was doing taking an Advanced Biology class when she claimed to have almost failed basic Biology. I watched as Jessamine took a seat next to a girl named Tatiana.

"Theresa Grey," Mrs. Branwell called out. My head snapped towards her and I followed to where her finger was pointing. The seat was near the front and I felt my cheeks grow warm as I walked in front of everyone, my head ducked. I sat down timidly, waiting to see who would sit beside me.

"William Herondale," Mrs. Branwell said. I was so startled that I jumped slightly, my cheeks flaming hot. I heard him walking towards my table and I struggled to appear as if I didn't care. Out of _all _the people in the class, William Herondale just happened to be the one Mrs. Branwell paired me with? I couldn't believe my bad luck. Jessamine shot me an envious look, as did Tatiana. I knew then that Jessamine would not let this go.

William slid onto the seat next to me, a scent of fresh soap and cologne following him. I stared down hard at my paper, afraid to look at him. Mrs. Branwell continued to call out names.

"Hi."

I froze. He was speaking to me. His voice was low, so that it wouldn't disrupt Mrs. Branwell. I stopped breathing, both fear and adrenaline and another feeling I couldn't name making it impossible for me to get a breath down my throat. I hid all of those emotions and continued to stare down at my side of the table, wondering if he would ignore me if I simply ignored him first. I had heard William speak before, but his voice seemed to take on an entirely different sound now that he was using it to speak to me.

"You're Theresa, right?" he pressed after a moment. Finally, I turned my head to look at him and I nodded slightly. His blue eyes looked even darker up close, framed by dark, long lashes. He had high cheekbones and a mess of black hair. And for a brief second, I allowed myself to appreciate his full lips and tall, muscled frame.

"Well, Tess," he said, startling me at the nickname, "I sure hope that you're good at biology, because I'm absolutely shitty at it."

My eyes widened at the language and I could feel my cheeks flush. I looked away again, focusing on my side of the table. Swallowing hard, I realized that I would have to talk to him, at least for now. Perhaps Mrs. Branwell would let me work alone if I explained to her…I paused. Explained what? That I was a horrible human being and in an effort to help straighten me out, my aunt had forbidden me to talk to anyone? It wouldn't make sense to anyone who didn't know my or Aunt Harriet's history.

"Then why did you take the class?" I asked softly, not even sure if William could hear my voice. He leaned in closer and I shied away, uncomfortable at having a boy so close. He grinned.

"Because I knew that a certain young lady was taking this class," he said, "And I was hoping that I could finally convince her to talk to me."

I glanced around the room at all of the other girls, then back at him. "Well, William," his name tasted sweet, but don't all forbidden things? "Maybe if you ask Mrs. Branwell she will partner you with the girl." I felt a sudden sense of relief; if William didn't want to be partners with me, then he could convince Mrs. Branwell to switch him, I'm sure of it. If I could only get a girl as a partner, I wouldn't be as worried about Aunt Harriet's reaction.

"Who said I'm not already her partner?" he murmured. My eyes widened again and I looked away, uncomfortable. A brief silence followed before he said, "Oh, and call me Will. Nobody calls me William but my grandmother." He cringed. "And you're too beautiful to remind me of her."

It was the first time somebody had ever called me beautiful. I stared at him, wondering what he was playing at. Was he was simply teasing me and trying to show off, or was he being genuine? It was hard to tell with him, but he held my gaze. His eyes dark and mine grey. And then he smiled very softly, just the corner of his mouth tilting up. I looked away quickly, setting my jaw. He was teasing; there was no doubt in my mind. And although it was all fun and games to him, if Jessamine noticed us talking about anything other than biology, I was sure that she would report it back to her mother, who would in turn tell Aunt Harriet. Jessamine was a gossip, and the apple didn't fall far from the tree.

After every one was seated in their new spots, Mrs. Branwell went over the syllabus and assigned us text books. Will stood up and grabbed two text books from Mrs. Branwell's desk before I could even stand. He handed me one and I looked down at it, mumbling a quick thank you. Mrs. Branwell talked until the bell rang, so it left little time for Will to say anything else to disturb me. Still, I was grateful to be leaving. I stood up and put my books in my bag, putting my hair behind my ear. Will took his time gathering his belongings.

"Well, I look forward to biology tomorrow," he said, raising his eyebrows at me. I didn't say anything and although he waited for a brief moment, he eventually turned away. He was probably thinking I wasn't fluent in English, because most of the time he spoke to me, I just stared.

"Will Herondale as your partner," a cool voice said in my ear, "Lucky you." I turned sharply and saw Jessamine giving me a cold look. I felt ice form in the pit of my stomach.

"Hope Aunt Harriet doesn't mind," she smiled, although there was no warmth to it. I started to ask her not to tell, but closed my mouth abruptly. Telling Jessamine not to do something would only result in her _doing_ it. She turned and walked out of the class with Tatiana, her blond curls bouncing.

I started the walk back home, thinking about William – or Will, as I was supposed to call him. Part of me couldn't help but smile. If my thirteen year old self had been seated next to him, she would have been estatic. He was so handsome, almost like a fairytale prince.

But this was no fairytale, and I was no princess. As Aunt Harriet's house came into view, I was reminded that I was one of the step sisters instead of Cinderella. I opened the front door and stepped in.

"Aunt Harriet?" I called, "I'm home."

"Good. Come here."

I forced myself to walk forward, each step making my heart beat faster. Had Jessamine told her about my biology partner? Surely Aunt Harriet would realize that I had no control over Mrs. Branwell's seating chart. _She can't be that unresonable, _I told myself.

Aunt Harriet was sitting at the kitchen table, a box of grits in front of her. I suppressed a whimper as she opened three of the bags of grits, pouring them on the floor.

"Pull your skirt," she told me, "Up to your knees."

I didn't argue. Instead, I did as she said. Then I lowered myself to my knees again, wincing as the gritty pieces of the uncooked grits bit into my skin.

"James 1:25," she said. I closed my eyes.

"But one who looks intently at the perfect law, the law of liberty, and abides by it, not having a forgetful hearer but an effectual doer, this man shall be blessed in what he does."

"Again. Keep repeating it."

"But one who looks intently at the perfect law, the law of liberty, and abides by it, not having a forgetful hearer but an effectual doer, this man shall be blessed in what he does. But one who looks intently at the perfect law, the law of liberty, and abides by it, not having a forgetful hearer but an effectual doer, this man shall be blessed in what he does. But one who looks intently at the perfect law, the law of liberty, and abides by it, not having a forgetful hearer but an effectual doer, this man shall be blessed in what he does."

I'm not sure how long she made me repeat it, but by the time I was finally allowed to get off of my knees they were swollen and raw, and sunlight no longer filtered through the windows. My lips, tongue and throat were dry and I started to get a glass of water, but Aunt Harriet stopped me.

"Go to your room. I want you to copy James 1:25 one hundred times and hand it to me in the morning."

"Yes, Aunt Harriet." What could I say? I had to obey her. I picked up my backpack and walked slowly to my room, feeling hot tears well up in the back of my eyes. But I wouldn't cry. As I coped down each line, I suddenly thought about Will. It seemed like a whole other world when I had put on the massacre in hopes to catch his eye. He would never know that I had to cover up the bruise on my cheek with make up, all because I had been infatuated with him and wanted to impress him.

I wondered what Will's life was like. Despite the fact that I had gone to school with him for years, I really didn't know much about him. I wondered if he still had his parents. He seemed so carefree and happy, always equipped with a smile or a witty remark. And for a brief second, I felt such a pang of jealousy that it hurt.

"But one who looks intently at the perfect law, the law of liberty, and abides by it, not having a forgetful hearer but an effectual doer, this man shall be blessed in what he does."

My fingers ached as I wrote the words over and over.


End file.
